Photography and Me

I didn’t realize how stifled I am without a camera in my hand.

Two weeks ago, my camera was dropped and almost totaled. My favorite lens is ruined and the shutter-release button is handicapped. (It wasn’t working at all until my brother did a procedure in lieu of sending it off for repair.) I’ll have to buy a new camera sooner than anticipated, but for those several days when my camera was completely out of commission, I was one unhappy girl.

With a camera, I can see the world. With a camera, I can let others see the beauty I see. With a camera, I can express what I see in a way that words and conversation will not allow. With a camera, I am me.

At least ten years ago I realized that I see life through a lens. Even just driving to church translates into a series of images. Through this journey of photography, I only know how much farther I have left to travel before I can claim to be a photographer; but in the meantime, I live to take pictures.

People may laugh at the shutterbug, the trigger finger. My family may get annoyed at my constant clicking. My friends probably don’t understand why I need to be taking pictures all the time. But me? I love photography.

I got a new lens for Christmas and suddenly I can take pictures again. No longer am I handicapped by the lack of control over my aperture and subject, once again I am alive. I can breathe again.

Jennifer the photographer-in-training is back.
World, beware!